Living in Alaska
Hoshino Michio (1952-1996)/is a well-known nature photographer. He produced a great number of wonderful photos of wildlife in Alaska. Here,/he talks about Alaska,/its people,/and “distant nature.”
When I was a freshman in college,/I came across a photo/that changed my life. It was a beautiful photo of a small village called Shishmaref/on a small island in Alaska. At first,/I couldn’t believe/that people could live in such a remote place. However,/when I found the village on the map,/I got interested/and had an urge to go and visit this tiny village.
I decided to write a letter,/but I didn’t know anyone in the village. So I wrote/“Dear Mayor of Shishmaref,”/asking him to introduce me to some family/who might let me stay. Half a year later,/I received a reply/inviting me to visit.
In 1973,/I went to Shishmaref/and spent the summer with an Eskimo family. I ate the same food as they did,/and even went caribou hunting with them. The local people often called me/“Eskimo boy”! It seemed that every day brought me new experiences.
Living in Alaska,/I discovered that people lead their everyday lives/even in such an out-of-the-way place,/just as we do back in Japan.
After graduating from college,/I worked for a photographer for two years. In 1978,/I went to Alaska again. My plan was/to stay for five years or so,/taking photographs. But as it turned out,/I’ve been living there for 18 long years!
Why do I like Alaska so much? Well,/of course,/it has great nature. Elsewhere in America,/there are great national parks/like Grand Canyon and Yellowstone. But just outside of these parks,/there are cities and towns. In Alaska,/there is only the vast expanse of wilderness.
You may think/that it is always winter in Alaska,/but the fact is that there are rather clear seasonal changes. I live in Fairbanks. The sun rises a little past ten in the morning in January,/and then sinks before two in the afternoon. The average low temperature is about 24 degrees below zero. As the days get longer,/people sense the coming of spring. Snow begins to melt,/ice breaks up on the rivers,/and the whole world seems to change. In summer,/the sun is above the horizon day and night;/the average high in July is 23 degrees. In autumn,/people prepare for winter. Many people make jam/from berries they pick in the forest.
Eskimos go whale hunting in April/when the ice on the Bering Sea starts to break up. In 1983,/I went whale hunting for the first time/at Point Hope. The hunters wait on top of an iceberg for the whales. When the right moment arrives,/they sail out on boats called “umiak.”
They are not always successful in whale hunting. But if they are lucky,/all the villagers come running/to pull the whale onto the ice. I still remember/seeing an old Eskimo lady come dancing and singing,/to give thanks for the gift from the sea.
Once the whale is placed on the ice,/an elder of the village says a prayer. Then the young people start cutting it up,/carefully following the elder’s instructions. The meat is shared by all the villagers,/and in the end/they push the huge head bone of the whale back into the sea,/saying, “Come back again next year!”
Living in Alaska for many years,/I’ve come to think/that there are two types of nature:/nature nearby/and distant wild nature. Having a small park nearby/makes us feel comfortable. That is very important. Distant nature, however, is/what comes to my mind/when I think about Alaska.
Alaska has been home to wildlife/since the beginning of time. I am most attracted/by the seasonal movement of the caribou/across the vast expanse of wilderness. Tens of thousands of them/travel in Arctic Alaska every year.
Thinking of distant nature,/I sometimes wonder what will happen/if the caribou and other wildlife disappear. Some people say,/“Who cares? Nobody goes that far/just to look for caribou.”
Indeed,/even if all the caribou die,/your daily life will not change. But you might lose something important,/and that is “distant nature in your imagination.” Just imagine/that at this very moment/all sorts of wildlife are carrying on their lives out there. Isn’t it wonderful? This act of imagination can set you free and enrich your life. As far as I’m concerned,/distant nature is just as important as nature nearby.
Hoshino Michio (1952-1996)/is a well-known nature photographer. He produced a great number of wonderful photos of wildlife in Alaska. Here,/he talks about Alaska,/its people,/and “distant nature.”
When I was a freshman in college,/I came across a photo/that changed my life. It was a beautiful photo of a small village called Shishmaref/on a small island in Alaska. At first,/I couldn’t believe/that people could live in such a remote place. However,/when I found the village on the map,/I got interested/and had an urge to go and visit this tiny village.
I decided to write a letter,/but I didn’t know anyone in the village. So I wrote/“Dear Mayor of Shishmaref,”/asking him to introduce me to some family/who might let me stay. Half a year later,/I received a reply/inviting me to visit.
In 1973,/I went to Shishmaref/and spent the summer with an Eskimo family. I ate the same food as they did,/and even went caribou hunting with them. The local people often called me/“Eskimo boy”! It seemed that every day brought me new experiences.
Living in Alaska,/I discovered that people lead their everyday lives/even in such an out-of-the-way place,/just as we do back in Japan.
After graduating from college,/I worked for a photographer for two years. In 1978,/I went to Alaska again. My plan was/to stay for five years or so,/taking photographs. But as it turned out,/I’ve been living there for 18 long years!
Why do I like Alaska so much? Well,/of course,/it has great nature. Elsewhere in America,/there are great national parks/like Grand Canyon and Yellowstone. But just outside of these parks,/there are cities and towns. In Alaska,/there is only the vast expanse of wilderness.
You may think/that it is always winter in Alaska,/but the fact is that there are rather clear seasonal changes. I live in Fairbanks. The sun rises a little past ten in the morning in January,/and then sinks before two in the afternoon. The average low temperature is about 24 degrees below zero. As the days get longer,/people sense the coming of spring. Snow begins to melt,/ice breaks up on the rivers,/and the whole world seems to change. In summer,/the sun is above the horizon day and night;/the average high in July is 23 degrees. In autumn,/people prepare for winter. Many people make jam/from berries they pick in the forest.
Eskimos go whale hunting in April/when the ice on the Bering Sea starts to break up. In 1983,/I went whale hunting for the first time/at Point Hope. The hunters wait on top of an iceberg for the whales. When the right moment arrives,/they sail out on boats called “umiak.”
They are not always successful in whale hunting. But if they are lucky,/all the villagers come running/to pull the whale onto the ice. I still remember/seeing an old Eskimo lady come dancing and singing,/to give thanks for the gift from the sea.
Once the whale is placed on the ice,/an elder of the village says a prayer. Then the young people start cutting it up,/carefully following the elder’s instructions. The meat is shared by all the villagers,/and in the end/they push the huge head bone of the whale back into the sea,/saying, “Come back again next year!”
Living in Alaska for many years,/I’ve come to think/that there are two types of nature:/nature nearby/and distant wild nature. Having a small park nearby/makes us feel comfortable. That is very important. Distant nature, however, is/what comes to my mind/when I think about Alaska.
Alaska has been home to wildlife/since the beginning of time. I am most attracted/by the seasonal movement of the caribou/across the vast expanse of wilderness. Tens of thousands of them/travel in Arctic Alaska every year.
Thinking of distant nature,/I sometimes wonder what will happen/if the caribou and other wildlife disappear. Some people say,/“Who cares? Nobody goes that far/just to look for caribou.”
Indeed,/even if all the caribou die,/your daily life will not change. But you might lose something important,/and that is “distant nature in your imagination.” Just imagine/that at this very moment/all sorts of wildlife are carrying on their lives out there. Isn’t it wonderful? This act of imagination can set you free and enrich your life. As far as I’m concerned,/distant nature is just as important as nature nearby.